


halfway to normal

by 8The_Great_Perhaps8



Series: critical role relationship week 2018 [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Mental Health Issues, i project on cassandra f to the yi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 08:58:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14973674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8The_Great_Perhaps8/pseuds/8The_Great_Perhaps8
Summary: Late night library chats





	halfway to normal

Vex’ahlia reminds Cassandra of Vesper.

Her memories of Vesper are like old and tarnished portraits, hazy with cobwebs and the passing of time. Mostly, she remembers walking around, looking up and seeing Vesper holding her hand, or lying down in bed and looking up and seeing Vesper stroking her hair, or Vesper reading her a story under the Sun Tree, or Vesper helping to arrange her hair. Vesper was almost more of a mother to Cassandra than Cassandra’s own mother was, but never lost the identity of big sister.

But that’s all the memories are. Flashes of a life before the hurt, flashes of love, flashes of a real family, a family that wasn’t tied together by shitty angry necrotic spells. There’s occasionally clips of Vesper’s voice, snippets of her voice lessons, cuts of Vesper learning to play piano (she was so fucking bad at it), or bits of Vesper calling, “Ready or not, here I come!”

Vex’ahlia echoes those memories, on occasion. When Cassandra catches the worst flu that she can remember coming through Whitestone, and Vex’ahlia gently lays a cool cloth over her forehead. When Cassandra starts freaking out in the library and then Vex’ahlia just so happens to start reading her book out loud. When Cassandra pulls a Percy and doesn’t leave her room for a week, and Vex’ahlia just so happens to need to have someone to go out to Whitestone with.

It’s nice. It’s like having an older sister again, and Cassandra does appreciate it.

Vex’ahlia doesn’t seem to realize that Cassandra does like her, though. That’s understandable, obviously- the de Rolos are well-known for being distant, and Cassandra definitely hasn’t gotten better at communicating her emotions after being fucking brainwashed for five years.

And Percival gets concerned whenever Vex’ahlia gets concerned over someone she likes disliking her, so he comes and talks at Cassandra and tells her to make it more obvious that she likes Vex’ahlia.

Cassandra is almost entirely uncertain of how to do this.

She figures on inviting Vex’ahlia out on fun little trips- around Whitestone, to Emon, visiting with Kaylie in Kymal, trying to make herself seem like a normal person.

It doesn’t seem to work, from what Cassandra can tell. Vex’ahlia still sneaks glances at her, still talks about it to Percival, still seems to try harder than she needs to with Cassandra.

It all apparently comes to a head one week in the middle of summer, when Cassandra is reading in the library and Vex’ahlia comes in and falls into the armchair across from her.

“Do you not like me?” Vex’ahlia asks.

It’s blunt. Easy to follow. Cassandra appreciates it.

“No. I very much enjoy your company, actually,” Cassandra tells her. “Why would you think otherwise?”

Vex’ahlia shrugs. “You always sound so distant, Cassie. You sound like you’re talking to us from behind a big, thick, piece of glass. Like you’re talking to us from a thousand feet away.”

“Do I?” Cassandra asks. It’s more of a polite interest, honestly, but it makes her feel sick remembering the glass slamming down between her and her brother and his friends.

“Yeah,” Vex’ahlia continues, “like, you never seem quite real. You seem like a butterfly that somebody collected and pinned behind glass. Like you’re always trying to be perfect, too, and behind glass. But you’re not. You’re still human, but you don’t act like it.”

“Pray tell, how should I act?” Cassandra asks. She’s heard this lecture a thousand times, from a million different people. She doesn’t act normal, but she should act normal, but it shouldn’t be an act.

“Like yourself,” Vex’ahlia says. “Don’t pretend that you’re normal if you aren’t. Maybe you’re emotionally distant, or whatever, but don’t pretend to be something you’re not.”

Cassandra’s thoughts stutter, momentarily, remembering a similar talk from Vesper. Not telling her to act normal, like Julius and Percival and Whitney and Ludwig and Oliver always said, but telling her to act like her own normal, like a normal that works for Cassandra, instead of a normal that works for the rest of the world. An actual normal, instead of a normal based on the whole entire rest of the world and their standards.

“That’s a really nice thing for you to say, Lady Vex’ahlia,” Cassandra says. “Honestly, I appreciate it.”

“Really?” Vex’ahlia asks, and Cassandra thinks that she sounds surprised. “Most people call me a bitch when I say shit like that.”

“No, you’re right. It’s going to be a titch difficult, though, as I’ve been pretending to be other people’s normal for so long, I don’t quite know how I’m going to handle it,” Cassandra says.

“I dunno. Start with me? That’s what me and Vax used to do.”

“Alright,” Cassandra says. “Sounds good.”

Cassandra returns to reading her book. And, apparently, Vex’ahlia doesn’t leave.

“Oh, is this your normal?” Vex’ahlia finally asks.

“Hm?” Cassandra looks up. “Yes, I have nothing to say to you. So isn’t our conversation over?”

Vex’ahlia shrugs. “Sure, I suppose. Mind if I hang out here with you?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Cassandra says.

After fifteen minutes of comfortable silence, Cassandra finishes her book and remembers something she wanted to say to Vex’ahlia.

“Vex’ahlia?” Cassandra asks. When she looks over, she sees Vex’ahlia jump in the armchair that she’s claimed for herself.

“Yes?” Vex’ahlia asks.

“I just wanted to say,” Cassandra says, and pauses. “Well, first of all, I wanted to say that I’m sorry if you ever thought that I disliked you. I like you quite a bit, honestly.”

“Oh,” Says Vex’ahlia. “Well, that’s very nice of you to say. I’m glad that you do like me, I always get horribly worried about these sorts of things.”

“You shouldn’t,” Cassandra says, reshelving her book. “You’re terribly charming, and I can’t think of anyone good who dislikes you.”

“Thank you very much, Cassandra,” Vex’ahlia says.

“One other thing,” Cassandra says, as she walks back towards the exit of the library, “if you don’t mind me saying.”

“No, I don’t,” Vex’ahlia responds immediately.

“You said that quite quickly,” Cassandra notices.

“Vax used to say the same thing, when we were young,” Vex’ahlia explains.

“Ah,” Cassandra says. “Anyway, what I wanted to say, is that you remind me of Vesper. Percival’s and I’s oldest sister. She was always so kind, always someone that I could depend on. And you’re so kind, you remind me of her.”

There’s a pause.

“That’s very kind of you to say, Cassandra,” Vex’ahlia says. “I appreciate it.”

Cassandra looks over to Vex’ahlia, and sees her blinking rapidly. “I do think of you as kind of an older sister, Vex’ahlia.”

Vex’ahlia stands up and approaches Cassandra. “Can I hug you, Cassandra?”

“Certainly,” Cassandra says. Vex’ahlia hugs her tightly and, after a moment, Cassandra reciprocates.

“I think of you as kind of my younger sister, Cassie,” Vex’ahlia says. “And I’m glad that you think of me as your older sister. It’s an honor.”

“It’s nothing,” Cassandra says. She extricates herself from the hug. “Good night, Vex’ahlia. Thank you for being a person I can depend on.”

“Of course,” Vex’ahlia says. “Good night, Cassandra.”

Cassandra leaves the library and goes to sleep.

The next day, she practices being normal with Vex’ahlia again.

It works out.


End file.
